Miracles don't exist || Theodore Nott

Chapter 4: The tri-wizard tournament

It took around a week and a half before the three champions were chosen.

You sit sandwiched between Theodore and Draco as the names of the champions get called out. Draco cheers as Krum gets chosen to represent Durmstrang and you clap loudly for Fleur and Cedric.

But the Great Hall falls silent as a fourth piece of paper flies out of the fire. And when Harry's name gets called out by Dumbledore, you jump up from your seat in search of Harry.

How's this possible? He's not even of age!

Blaise scoffs, folding his arms over each other. "Of course, bloody Potter has to steal the spotlight."

"I can't imagine he wanted this. Didn't you see the panicked look on his face?" You glance over to the Gryffindor table and make eye contact with Hermione. You share a panicked look, thinking the same.

"Are you seriously concerned for Potter?" Draco grimaces, pulling his nose up in disgust.

Rolling your eyes, you turn around and get up. You see no point in staying around any longer around the sour brigade.

"Black! Wait up!"

You turn around and arch a brow as you see Theodore briskly walking down the hall. He catches up with you in no time and he pulls you to continue walking towards the Slytherin dorm.

Theodore chews on the inside of his cheeks in a nervous-like manner. Theodore? Nervous? Since when? "Do you want to grab some breakfast together tomorrow?" He glances at you as he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

You furrow your eyebrows. "Sure..."

"Great. See you tomorrow", he says as turns to go to the boy's dormitories.

What in the name of Salazar's saggy eye bags was that?

You let yourself fall face-first on the four-poster bed, closing the curtains with a flick of your wand.

A bad feeling about the whole Harry and the Triwizard tournament thing-y grows in the pits of your stomach. There is no way he would ─ or could ─ enter the tournament by himself. Not even with an ageing spell. Fred and George Weasley already tried that, and it ended with them being hexed old and greying.

Sleep does not come easy, but morning does eventually roll in. Flicking open the curtains, you stretch your back ─ popping a few joints ─ before you get washed and dressed and ready for the day.

As you walk into the common room, a sigh leaves your lips as you spot Theodore, Lorenzo, and Draco (plus his minions) sit on the couches, conversing in a hushed tone.

With another sigh, you make your way over to them and awkwardly stand in front of the boys, dropping your book bag on the ground. "Ready to go?", you ask Theodore, who jumps up from the cough.

He wordlessly grabs his own book bag and yours before making his way up the stairs to get out of the common room.

You shoot an exasperated look at Draco before following behind the brown-haired boy. He's already out the door once you catch up to him.

"You don't have to carry my book bag, Theodore." You huff and puff out of breath as you walk next to him. Damn Hogwarts — and Slytherin — for the ridiculous amount of stairs in the school.

"Well... get used to it", he answers gruffly. His grip on the traps of your book bag tightens as you try to pry it out of his hands.

You hear a scuffle behind you and look over your shoulder. Draco, Lorenzo, Blaise and the others of your cousin's lackeys try not so subtly follow after the both of you from a distance.